


Nilas

by Spudato



Series: Tribelands AU [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Multi, Other, Tribelands AU, queer writing by a queer writer for queer readers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-04-28 17:16:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spudato/pseuds/Spudato
Summary: The year is 262. The great Faunus tribes of Remnant are entangled in war with humans, and fear and death feels as though it stands on every Chieftain's doors. Yet in Jarro, during the peaceful festival of Suunmord when all weapons are put aside and the Faunus people stand as one, young Chieftains Velvet and Blake find themselves meeting Weiss of the distant Bonyorn. As their drive to bridge the gap between their tribes deepens, they also find their curiosity grows too as they begin to wonder just who she is, where she comes from, and most importantly: would she stay if they asked?





	1. fensalir

**Author's Note:**

> Here's this legendary AU I've been working on for a long while now. If you don't know the impetus with which this huge AU was created, try reading my chatlog fanfiction 'The Frappuccino Logs', or the entirety of the Great Weiss Shark AU for two of the biggest driving influences!
> 
> This AU is an overhaul of all of Remnant's lore, this time putting the Faunus at the forefront. There's a whole lot of lore and a whole lot of things to sort through, but what you mostly need to know is this: the Faunus created eleven great tribes that cross the face of Remnant, using natural fortifications and defended borders to create huge territories and four great settlements. Humans were nomadic and peaceful, but have now created four 'kingdoms' that want nothing more than all the land and resources that the Faunus keep safe, and this has led to a huge conflict that divides them. The question is, will humans and their mysterious, nature-warping Dust succeed? Or will the Faunus and their centuries-old civilisation prove superior? READ ON AND FIND OUT, I GUESS.
> 
> So without further ado, here's Nilas, the first of the Tribelands AU series.

The Faunus territory of Jarro had gone by many names.

During the earliest days, not long after the Maidens had transformed into the four seasons and _clans_ existed as roaming families fighting off the Grimm with whatever they had to hand, _tribes_ were still new to the world and went yet untested, meaning ‘Jarro’ hadn’t truly existed. Instead, the inhabitants were known as the Clans of the Red Forest, or the People of Forever Fall. There was no easy way to name them all so vast their reaches were, Faunus hiding in every cavern or settled atop every hill in the whole of western Sanus.

But times changed as sure as the tides, the rain, the night, and eventually borders settled as homes were built, the lines that separated the territory of each clan slowly merging into one, and _Jarro_ came to be. The Faunus worked together, replacing tools of war and destruction with those to build and co-exist, working with the nature that surrounded and guarded them to build their own place of safety in an uncertain world. The true jewel of the tribelands, however, came in the form of a great and vast settlement on the eastern coast, protected from the Grimm by long, cliff-faced beaches and backed by the winding maze of Forever Fall and the mountains beyond. They named it _Vaule,_ sat upon Grimmtooth Point, and in the centre of the settlement, perched upon a sloping knoll that rose above all else, they created the Gathering Hall, home of all the Chieftains that ever did - and would - rule Jarro.

The Hall was where every victory was celebrated with feasting and music, drink and song. The tribe would come together as one throughout all the streets of Vaule, the Faunus shouting together for blessings from the Maidens and ancient Hallows alike for their good fortunes and future battles. Even as Vaule grew, even when Jarro went to war with neighbours like Zverni, Soccoroco and Nyrnett, the Gathering Hall weathered it all, a bastion of hope, of safety, of _home_. Great wooden beams stood strong no matter the severity of a storm, banners and tapestries hanging from the rafters in a thousand bright colours like a vivid timeline marking each major event for generations to see. The feasting room and kitchens to the rear oversaw a thousand reasons to indulge in roasted, fatty meats or to eat rich and juicy fruits, and through the corridors and halls of the wings marched members of the White Fang, the Chieftain’s personal guard.

Yet what made the Gathering Hall of Jarro so much _more_ famous, however, was that each and every year it hosted the festival of the Summer Equinox, held when the sunsets and sunrises bled into one continuous orange glow and the heat reached a furious, humid peak. All the tribes of Remnant, no matter how far flung, came together and gathered on neutral terms to celebrate, leaving weapons at the great arched doors and putting wars and squabbles to rest, if only for a while. Vaule, and even the far reaches of Jarro’s territory, would come alight with lanterns hung from trees and rafters alike like a trail leading the way home, and the few hours of nightfall saw bonfires lit along the beaches like blazing beacons. Drinks poured freely, food served to any hungry traveller, and a thousand languages would combine and blend together in the warm, cloying air.

Velvet had always thought fondly of the celebrations. Years ago, when she’d been but a cub with a reckless streak as wide as she was tall, she’d been allowed to wander around Vaule with her siblings alongside, staring with wide eyes at all the different tribes mingling together, at the strangers walking through her home. Odd clothes or exotic weaponry, new tongues or old rituals; all of it had been thrilling to see and explore, and even after twenty-one summers the effect was still much the same. Still, all of that paled compared to her favourite memory of the festival two summers prior, when the settlement had been fervent with excitement for her wedding and the whole tribe had come to Vaule to celebrate. She’d known it’d be a public affair, yet even so her clan hadn’t been quite ready for the sheer number of their people.

Perhaps it was understandable; it’d been the first time two tribes had been united in marriage after all, boats from the distant Akadya of Anima landing on Jarran shores with Velvet’s spouse-to-be aboard. It was arranged, planned several seasons before when Velvet had travelled to Akadya to vy for the hand of the Chieftain’s only heir, Blake Belladonna. Velvet considered herself perhaps a little more roughcut than Blake, all too eager to get her hands dirty and work alongside her people whether in salted waters or ankle-deep in mud, yet Blake had surprised her with their tenacity and candor, their bone-deep determination to stand as a bastion of justice. She had surprised Blake in turn, perhaps, given that after spending a week together Blake had declared her their betrothed, despite having turned down so many before her.

Velvet had to admit she didn’t remember much of the celebrations after their arrival with Akadyan revellers in tow - it was mostly dancing and laughing and drinking, all before they’d made love together beneath the full moon, hearts beating in unison for the first time for the rest of their lives. Even when the night had washed away in pinks and yellows the next morning, she’d sworn she could still hear voices raised loud in cheer, reverberating off wooden walls until the floor had shook beneath their bed, Blake sound asleep in her arms.

This festival was a little different still. For the first time Blake and Velvet sat together in the throne room, the ornate redwood chairs once occupied by Velvet’s parents and their parents in turn. Instead, the heads of the Scarlatina clan now stood with the remainder of their family in the crowds of Faunus that lined either side of the throne room. The change had been inevitable, like the birth of lambs in the spring or the bitter winds of autumn, and long gone were the years when Velvet would have sat amongst her siblings on the thick furs that surrounded the thrones, watching the crowds gather together. Now, the two Chieftains were grown and strong, dark and freckled skin both marred by the scars of a hundred battles won, which there were no shortage of given both tribe’s entanglements with encroaching humans. Just a month prior the two had fought in Akadya’s tribelands to reclaim the southern border from the newly established Mistrali Kingdom, fighting a long and brutal battle until all that was left was an army fleeing on the distant horizon and a thousand human bodies left to bleed into the grass. Combined with successes by their kin in nearby Nyrnett or in the remote Yuura, it meant spirits were high this summer, prayers and blessings chanted like wards against evil, and when sat in the Gathering Hall and surrounded by the faces of their people they both looked very much the leaders they were becoming. Paintings were created in their honour to memorialise their victories, songs penned and repeated until they couldn’t be forgotten, and even bitter rivals came together to praise every inch of ground regained. After all, in the face of the rising human threat, every Faunus was kin and ally.

No long did either young Chieftain try to fit the shoes of their parents before them; they walked with their own purpose now, and cast long shadows behind.

This was the first day of the week-long festival, known as _Valcamdywn_ , and it began by having each Chieftain approach the thrones with a small number of their tribal kin for their welcome to the celebrations. No matter if they were from the far deserts of Riqra or the flat plateaus of Xuyri, they would arrive by boat or steed or on foot to bow low before Blake and Velvet, offered a few words of greeting before they rejoined the expansive crowd. The ritual had been refined by generations, just the way Velvet could remember it when she’d been young, and following tradition was soothingly familiar in an age of unrest. It was like following footsteps in the sand, untouched by foamy waters.

Velvet found she didn’t suit actually _sitting_ on the throne all that well, though. She had a tendency towards fidgeting, body eager to burn unused energy, the stagnancy of it all leaving her impatient. It was only by the virtue of having Blake at her side that her heart was settled; Blake’s cool, calm presence was an ever-present salve to her restless soul, their touch relaxing her in an instant. Even though Blake was clearly a fish from water in the heart of Jarro, every soft-spoken syllable accented by the lyrical tongue of the Akadyan territories, they’d adapted to Velvet’s homeland as easily as they’d adapted to becoming Chieftain no matter if they’d only a season’s worth of extra experience. Despite being slouched back in their seat in a carefree pose, leaned against one arm of the throne with their fingers to their chin and long legs stretched out before them, they radiated an easy elegance, sharp amber eyes sweeping the Hall like a panther’s gaze. Their clothes were of Jarran origin, light and sheer and leaving the brown skin of their arms and calves exposed to combat the wet heat, and Velvet found them timelessly handsome, naturally regal in a way she deeply envied.

It has been much the same when they’d met in Akadya for the first time, sat alongside their parents whilst dressed in the purple and ebony shades of their clan, the clothes thick and layered to warm them against the cool autumn air. The Akadyan Gathering Hall - known as the _koyota_ \- had been hushed as Velvet had approached the thrones with her mother beside her, her smile bright and hopes strong, her hastily-learned Akadyan enough to earn Blake’s curiosity and, later, their adoration. She’d fallen in love with their bright eyes at first, and fell in love again when she first ran her fingers through thick black hair, falling in love a third time when she’d finally summoned the courage to kiss them and was beaten to the punch anyway. Two summers had done nothing to lessen the feelings that bloomed in her heart when she glanced at them too long, their toothy grins or wrinkling of their curved nose setting off a thousand tiny Lancers in her stomach. Perhaps having seen them in the afterglow of a fight won, blood flecked across their face and sharp teeth stained pink as they roared out a battlecry, had done nothing to help matters much.

Distracted, Velvet almost missed her cue when Blake spoke a greeting to Chieftain Oryza of Riqra - the last tribe to enter the Hall - as he bowed before them. Sitting up straighter, she hurried to add her part, murmuring _Jarro’s doors are open to you_ as she’d done countless times that afternoon. Whether her slip had been noticed or not, he still offered them a wide smile before the tribe moved off to stand on Blake’s side of the Hall, merging into cool shadows with barely a whisper of feet.

From the far end of the throne room the doors stood open to permit a soft summer breeze, a broad streak of sunlight warming the floor and lighting up the high rooves above, yet no more figures approached the threshold. The crowd looked expectantly upwards towards the Chieftains as they waited for the declaration that the festival had begun in earnest, trepidation growing when Blake gave Velvet a smile before offering their hand to her. Grinning in return Velvet slipped her palm into Blake’s, liking the way they fit together just so like they were cast to match, and was about to stand with them when a shout came from the doorway, loud enough to echo all around the throne room like the cracking of bone.

“Chieftain Scarlatina!”

A shadow appeared in the block of sunlight, the drum-like rhythm of feet against the path outside even louder then they struck the boards of the Hall, and as tension rippled through the gathered Faunus so approached one of the greeters that had stood near Vaule’s northern gates, judging by the insignia on a maroon cape over their shoulders.  The cape itself shifted to reveal a tawny brown wolf’s tail, swaying with each stride, and a curious murmur rose like a cresting wave when they came to a stop paces away from the dias, gasping like they’d run a mile.

“I- I’m sincerely sorry for the interruption, Chieftain,” they panted, hands on their knees as they bent low and coughed wetly. “But ano- another tribe has arrived for the festivities; they’ve trekked from the northern coast and send their deepest apologies for their tardiness-”

Rather than replying right away despite questions pressing at the back of Velvet’s teeth, she let them breathe for a moment, glancing to Blake with furrowed brows. Already her partner was scanning the crowds for absentees, counting the heads of each Chieftain before canting their head in confusion. Everyone they’d expected was present, every face Velvet had greeted a familiar one, yet Velvet could hear a nervous murmur run through the Hall, and more than one Chieftain was whispering to their kin with sober expressions. Who was missing?

Licking her lips and letting go of Blake’s hand, Velvet leaned forwards, the motion causing one end of a bright orange wrap around her body to slip from a rounded shoulder. The greeter stood tall, breathing a little softer now, though they weren’t quite able to hold her gaze. “Who?” Velvet asked. “We have every tribe assembled here, do we not?”

The way voices rose up in response told Velvet the Hall already knew, yet the greeter squared their shoulders, eyes still averted as they replied, “the Bonyorn tribe of Solitas, Chieftain. They’ve arrived for the celebrations.”

With that a hush settled, the confirmation leaving an unsettling silence behind as Blake inhaled sharply at their words, sitting up a little straighter in their seat as Velvet stiffened. The Bonyorn tribe were _withdrawn_ , to say the very least; the oldest of all the Faunus territories, they were set upon the northernmost point of Remnant in the unforgivingly icy region of Solitas where there was no competition for land. The last Velvet had seen of them had been over a decade ago, before she’d even been old enough to hold a blade for the first time, during a cool Summer Equinox that she’d spent hiding behind her mother’s skirts at the sight of the strangers from Bonyorn. Pale skinned and decorated with black bodypaint, the harsh landscape of their tribelands made them lean and resourceful, efficient in everything from words to movement, gaunt of face and impassive of personality. Their ways and rites of passage had never changed even over hundreds of years, and left even the most hardy of Jarro speak the word _savage_ with a hiss. Even long after they’d left for the last time Velvet had felt a keen sting of fear tingling between her shoulder blades when she was alone, the other children spreading rumours that the Bonyornic folk would steal them away at the dead of night if they’d made eye contact during their stay. It’d been silly antics in hindsight, but at the time there’d been something truly frightening about them, always slowly and deliberately moving as if everyone around them was merely a skittish prey on the verge of fleeing.

Perhaps time would have changed that; after all, Velvet had learned there were far worse things to fear in the world.

Leaning closer to Blake, she murmured a few words in their ear before they nodded, rolling their shoulders as they spoke, voice resounding off the walls with an Akadyan lilt. “Then we welcome them with open arms. Bring them in.”

With that the wolf Faunus bowed low before standing tall, their fists crossing overhead in the traditional Jarran salute. Then, with significantly more breath than before, they pivoted on their heel before jogging back towards the doors at a more leisurely pace, stepping into the sunlight and disappearing around the corner. As soon as they were gone the Hall came alive with sound once more, whispers and mutterings loud enough for Velvet to make out words rather than noise. A few were in languages Velvet wasn’t familiar enough with to translate, but others - _I’ve never seen those from Bonyorn before_ , or _why have they come now?_ \- were more audible, Blake’s ears twitching at a particularly harsh hiss. They shifted in their seat again, taking Velvet’s hand and linking their fingers together before leaning closer to speak in a low purr.

“This will be interesting to see.”

“Very,” Velvet breathed back, squeezing Blake’s hand tight and calming herself from their steady grip. Of course nothing could go so simply as that, Velvet’s whole life seemingly destined to encounter every problem and every new development that it possibly could. Judging by how her mother strode from the crowd, making her way down towards the thrones with a warlike march, gave Velvet the idea this surprise hadn’t been one that was particularly welcomed either. The Faunus in the Hall shuffled back to widen her path, glancing away from her eyes, and even after nearly two seasons away from the throne Taffeta still exuded authority like a force of will. Even after losing an arm all the way up to her left shoulder, an injury she highlighted by having a bolt of red cloth tied from stump to waist to purposely show off the asymmetry, nothing about her was any less terrifying to behold. Blake glanced to Velvet and Velvet just raised her brows, watching as Taffeta climbed the steps up to the diass two at a time, walking behind their seats until she leaned between them. Normally Velvet could imagine her resting an arm across either chair, bent low like she was reprimanding them both at the dinner table, but with only one arm she had to make do with holding the back of Velvet’s throne instead.

“Not to place pressure on you,” Taffeta whispered, before she offered Velvet a brazen grin that was a mimic of her own. “But this is the first time Bonyorn have returned to this land for twelve summers.”

“I’m aware,” Velvet sighed. “Should we hope for the best?”

“That they’re going to actually talk with us again? Hallows can only bless us so.”

Blake clicked their tongue, and then looked to Taffeta with a bright smile. “Then we’ll look for a way to keep them coming back to us. They’ll be here for a week, and I’m sure we’ll find something that appeals in that time.”

Taffeta’s face was worryingly blank. “Then you’ll do what I couldn’t over several _years_. Luck be with you both.” She stepped away then, and just in time for the sunlight through the door to flicker as shadows emerged, the shapes of one, two, three people merging into one as a group stepped over the threshold and out of the glaring sun.

They hadn’t changed at all to what Velvet could remember, so much so that a part of her felt like she’d fallen back in time, watching them walk through the Hall so quietly that it was almost like a mirage. Leading the way came a tall woman with a body as slender as a knife, thick stripes of tarlike paint marking her off-white skin and a snow fox tail swinging behind her, and following her came two boys of polar bear blood, shoulders twice as wide as Velvet and dense patches of white hair on their jawline and chest, fuzz right down their arms and legs. A few more accompanied them, hair either dark as pitch or light as ivory, and all came with painted bodies and the rasp of bare feet against the floorboards until they stopped before the thrones, ice sculptures come to life. None of them twitched even as muted murmurs ran through the Hall, almost unnaturally still until the fox Faunus stepped closer, lowering her head for just a moment.

“Chieftains,” she began, raising her head to fix them both with a cool gaze. “We apologise for our late arrival. We had to travel in from the coast and the way was more difficult than expected.”

Every word came out carefully weighed and measured, and her accent was harsh, arrhythmic and needlessly sharp. It wasn’t melodic like how Blake spoke, or mixing the hard and the soft like in Jarro; it was all angular and biting, a chilling winter wind. Yet, Blake wasn’t perturbed, their timbre smooth and soothing enough to calm riled crowds. “You needn’t apologise, for you’ve arrived just in time for celebrations to start.” They squeezed Velvet’s knuckles once more, wordlessly offering a cue.

“It’s been… it’s been a _long_ time since our northern siblings joined us.” Pausing for a moment, she gathered words before offering a smile she hoped seemed sincere. “But you’re always welcome both here in Jarro’s tribelands, and in Akadya’s too.”

“You’re too kind, Chieftain Scarlatina.”

Velvet was just about to offer for them to join the crowds when something clicked into place in her head, understanding what was _off_ about them before knowing that anything even had been; none of the Bonyornic Faunus looked like a Chieftain. Usually most Chieftains came adorned in ceremonial armours or fine clothing, passed down through countless generations, yet none of the northern tribe wore anything different from the rest, not truly. The woman may have been their speaker, yet she wore the same roughspun clothes as her kin, dyed in white and blues and greys and blacks and waterproofed with fat. There was no distinct leader in the pack, no presence nor poise as Velvet had come to expect. It wasn’t unheard of for a Chieftain to send an emissary than come in person, but certainly unusual. So, chewing her lip, Velvet canted her head as she scanned over their numbers once more. “May I ask your name?”

Bowing her head again, the Faunus replied evenly, “Ecru, of clan Akmuo.”

Velvet didn’t recognise the clan. Whatever clan Bonyorn’s Chieftain had been she couldn’t quite recall, but Akmuo didn’t ring of familiarity. Breathing deep, Velvet leaned forwards just a touch, barrelling on ahead. “Ecru. I mean no offense, but… is the Chieftain of Bonyorn among you? Or are you an emissary?”

A glance back at her kin preceded a few words shared between them, syllables uttered in a cutting, spitting tongue before her lofty gaze returned to the two Chieftains above once more. “Our Chieftain… has been dead for seven winters. In their place, and in the face of rising conflicts, we’ve been following the word of our mythics who’ve guided us in their stead, and have thus led us here.”

There was no stopping the tidal wave of questions that echoed through the Hall, the gasps and the whispers, the uttered _what_ s and the choked _why_ s. Blake raised a hand for silence but it didn’t come, the crowd shifting, irritated, a hive of wasps around the Bonyorn tribe as they circled prey that stood placidly and without fear. Watching. Waiting. As patient and as ageless as their homeland.

“Quiet!” Velvet finally snapped, voice ringing off the walls like the crack of a whip, and the mutterings lulled as eyes averted. Ecru’s mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile, and Blake’s fingers tightened around Velvet’s fist as they sat taller, folding one leg beneath the other. Their bright panther eyes were like a pair of candles in the shadows, brimming with curiosity as they looked Ecru up and down.

“Interesting,” they murmured. “Are _you_ one of these mythics?”

Shaking her head, Ecru stepped aside, one arm motioning behind her. “I am not. She is.”

At that, the two boys shuffled apart to allow someone between them, and so came a figure so slight it was as if she were nothing more than a shard of ice, her shadow quivering and blurring at the edges. She was easily by shortest by a head or so, hidden within the group so well that Velvet might have missed her entirely had she not been brought to the forefront. Her white hair was shaved around the back and sides of her scalp, the rest tied behind her head, and from beneath a thick stripe of black paint over her eyes and the bridge of her nose was a bright blue gaze… or what _would_ have been, had her left eye not been milky from blindness, a narrow, jagged scar bisecting her brow and running from hairline to jaw. There was more paint on her neck, imitating gills, and on the curve of her shoulders was depicted what almost seemed to be the crude shape of eyes. Like her fellows her clothes were simple, though her blue shirt had been cut beneath her chest and tied behind her back to reveal four lines of gills under either side of her ribs, closed tight in the air. Her hands emerged from behind a sealskin pareo that covered dark brown breeches, and she bowed low before looking at Velvet for a long moment, eyes jumping to Blake and back, licking her teeth before her mouth dropped open to speak. Velvet, however, couldn’t focus on anything but the razor-sharp peaks of her teeth, as thin as flakes of flint. She was a shark-blooded Faunus, rare enough that it was akin to seeing some old beast of legend, and judging from how Blake’s hand squeezed her fist out of surprise they were just as taken aback.

“My name is Weiss,” she stated, a wrist grasped in one hand, tension leaving her taut all over. “I’ve been sent here on behalf of my fellow mythics to see our party’s safe arrival, and to record stories, preserve legend.” Her eyes narrowed then, and she looked down to the floor. “Though I wouldn’t consider myself anything akin to the status of a Chieftain.”

It was rare to meet someone who could say so much in so little words, Weiss’s focus flicking up to Velvet and back down again. Pondering her words for just a moment, Velvet slipped her hand from Blake’s before she pushed herself up from the throne, rearranging her clothes before she descended from the dias. As her heel hit the floor the tribe shuffled back to make room, Weiss taking one long pace back, and Velvet was somewhat pleased that when she stood tall Weiss didn’t even come up to the level of Velvet’s rounded shoulders, yet her mismatched eyes were hard and wary, unintimidated. Velvet couldn't lie; she was already fascinated with this stranger who stared at her like she wasn’t sure if she was a threat. “Then, perhaps it would suit you more to be welcomed as our friend and equal.” Offering out a hand, Velvet’s smile widened into a grin. “Weiss? _Just_ Weiss?”

There was a flash of teeth as Weiss bit her lip, looking to Velvet’s hand as though expecting a trap of some sort. For just a second Velvet worried that her offer would be rejected, that the tribe were keeping their distance, but the shorter Faunus hesitantly reached out in return. The black paint that decorated her body was smeared upon her fingers, across the palm of her hand, as dark and adhered as tar. “Weiss… and a name that doesn’t belong to me.”

The giveaway was so interesting that Velvet had to bite the inside of her mouth as not to blurt _and why would that be_ out loud, and instead she shook Weiss’s hand firmly. She half expected there to be an imprint of paint left behind when she let go, a marking to prove Weiss’s touch, yet her skin was clean, Weiss’s fingers still marked as darkly as a tattoo as she curled her hand back into a loose fist, arm dropping to her side.

“Well, Blake and I welcome you and your tribe, Weiss. May you enjoy the festivities and make yourselves at home here in Jarro. And please-” she added when Weiss offered a thin, serrated smile of acknowledgement. “Don’t hesitate to share with us the stories you’ve amassed, or of the years we’ve missed. I’m sure many are curious as to what’s transpired during your absence.”

A creak of a chair and the padding of feet, and Blake stepped beside Velvet with a toothy grin, tall and willowy. They linked their hands up again, fingers interlocking, as they addressed Weiss. “We look forward to talking with you, Weiss, Ecru. Our home is your home.”

“Thank you, Chieftains,” Weiss bowed again, a little shallower this time around, before moving towards Velvet’s left, the tribe following her path. Velvet watched her until they stood together in the shadows, the other Faunus around them shifting away as if they carried a chilling aura, and then she gazed around the Hall once more. Slowly attention focused back on both Chieftains, surprise and distrust shifting to excitement again, and Velvet could see her mother’s dark eyes watching her steadily as she spoke to the crowds.

“If there are no further arrivals,” Velvet’s voice boomed, the Hall’s resonance lending to bolster her words. “Then it is with our blessing and our declaration that the Festival of Suunmord may begin!”

At that Blake threw their hands up together, a cheer running through the Hall like a roar of thunder as the clapping of hands and the stomping of feet lent some ancient beat that sounded to the rhythm of Velvet’s heart. Seeing the people, whether Jarran or Akadyan, Riqran or Yuuric, dance and celebrate together made pride blossom in Velvet’s chest like tinder to a flame, but when she glanced over one shoulder the Bonyorn tribe stood silently, as bright as dusting of snow in the corner of the Hall, and Weiss watched them with a ferocious intensity that carved its way right into Velvet’s heart.

All through the evening, her gaze could be felt, but Velvet couldn’t bring herself to mind.


	2. oskopinir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! This time we meet some Chieftains and learn a little more about what it means to actually be a Chieftain. It mostly involves tolerating each other's presence and drinking tea. Nice.

“I just don’t trust them. You’ve surely heard the rumours, haven’t you?”

Blake and Velvet shared a long look before Blake busied themself with pouring more tea as Velvet’s eyes fell back to her breakfast, not daring to look at Oryza just yet. Instead, the fragrant scent of strong Akadyan herbs floated through the air in curling tendrils of steam to fill up the silence in wake of his question, carrying with it the barest bitter undertone that Velvet now found soothing in its familiarity. Blake always drank the same blend, smoky and dark, sticking to the back of the tongue and down the throat like ichor, and now it seemed Velvet could never quite separate the two in her head these days.

The tea was potent enough that the whole of the feasting room was nigh drenched in its scent, the larger space directly connected to the rear of the Hall yet almost twice its size. Heavy beams stretched across the width of the room in the high rafters above, adorned with the purple and orange banners bearing the crests of the Belladonna and Scarlatina clans that hung almost low enough for Velvet to touch, and the long wooden tables that could accommodate thousands of eaters were dappled with morning sunlight that filtered through the shutters above. There’d been hosted many a feast here, from the births of Velvet’s younger siblings to Velvet’s own ascension to Chieftain, and the floorboards were stained from thousands of spilled drinks. The tables had been carved into with anything to hand - be it knife or claw - marking the dates of events like a jumbled timeline, and some were so old they’d been written before the advent of the common tribal tongue, the letters worn away until almost illegible.

Yet there was no ceremony this morning, no roasting of a kill or pouring of drinks. Rather, the room was cool and echoing from the vast emptiness, the only people sat within being Blake, Velvet, and Chieftains Oryza and Kaniwa all sharing breakfast together. Other than the occasional bustle of the Hall’s attendants in the kitchen to the back of the room they were entirely alone, though the reason for being so was entirely understandable. Blake had always seen it as a priority to share meals with the other Chieftains, to talk honestly and openly to encourage camaraderie, and the nature of their conversations were often better left unheard to the wrong ears. Velvet had to admit Blake had a good point in exercising the practise, though, even if she had always been better at _doing_ rather than _talking_ ; at the very least it provided a chance for them to confer about the encroaching human threat rather than bouncing ideas off each other for the rest of time itself.

At least, that was in theory. Alas, whilst Kaniwa was a calmer and rather collected Chieftain, Oryza was better known for his more outspoken personality. It was something Velvet would have to get used to.

“I’m afraid I don’t busy myself with the rumours of a distant tribe that people rarely see,” Velvet replied firmly, scraping her spoon around the bottom of her bowl of zabkasa to catch the last sticky remnants. “These days I’m more concerned about whatever the humans are planning to do next.”

When Oryza waved her words away with a huff, there was a tingle of irritation that settled right between Velvet’s shoulderblades. He may have been more than twenty years her senior, yet they were equals by any other means no matter his berth of experience. She had a sneaking suspicion he still saw her as a child from when they’d first met, herself hardly ten summers and himself little over thirty, back when dark-blond dreadlocks had been elaborately decorated and his skin, nearly as dark as Blake’s, hardly as riddled with scars as he was now. He hadn’t had the beard back then, come to think, so thick now it was a wonder how he ate so cleanly.

“Aren’t we all?” He said, dismissive in a way Velvet was struggling not to snarl at. “No, what I’m wondering is why should they choose to just… reappear like this? They’ve clearly survived well enough alone, so why begin to mend these bridges now? They’ve not helped us before.”

Velvet couldn’t help but think the answer to that was blindingly obvious. Perhaps if times were different she’d understand wanting something in return for help, yet they hadn’t the luxury now. The years were changing and everyone needed to help each other, if not out of gain then for love of their kin. If the look on Kaniwa’s face meant half of what Velvet thought it did, she was also getting a little sick and tired of the conspiracy theories, focused more on tearing apart a thick slice of heavily seeded bread to dip into a thin broth. Still, she didn’t interject, content enough to let him rant himself into a stupor as she ate. Velvet envied the braids that hung from one side of her head, the other side shorn and scarred from some old encounter with an Ursa Major. Each intricate braid was weaved with bright colours to create a shifting rainbow when she moved, and it had the effect of acting like a curtain, blocking her face from Oryza’s line of sight and giving her good reason to ignore his rambling. Velvet, on the other hand, had her hair tied back and all of Oryza’s focus directly on her, so she nudged Blake beneath the table with her foot, making them look up to see Oryza still waiting on an answer.

“They said it themselves; they’re facing conflict, much as we are. It would be foolish to stay apart as we’ve been, and now is the best time to reunite ourselves.” Blake nudged Velvet back, a raised brow clearly communicating _your turn_.

“And-” Velvet was quick to follow up just before Oryza could jump in again, mouth opening beneath a fluffy moustache. “This Festival has always been a time of peace for hundreds of years, even when Jarro has been entangled in war with other tribes.” She thought better of motioning towards Kaniwa as an example, the last Chieftain to have ever attempted to clash with Velvet’s mother. That loss had already been humbling for Zverni as a whole and there wasn’t much need to push it. “Even if your worst fears _were_ confirmed, there’s thousands in attendance here, most of whom are our most trusted warriors. It’d be the worst time to stir trouble.”

Kaniwa made a murmur of agreement, still not looking up from her her food lest she were to join the conversation proper, and Oryza just grumbled as he ran a hand up his face, grabbing his cup of tea with the other and swirling the contents around despite Velvet’s suspicion that it was probably stone cold.

“Even so,” he started gruffly, taking a long sip. “These people are so… _remote_. Years of isolation can lead to strange circumstances, and Bonyorn are as isolated as you can get. I’ve heard these _mythics_ of theirs have to kill one of their own just to pass the rite of passage.”

Something about the tone of his voice, the disgust just barely disguised, made irritation bloom into a flare of anger that threatened to catch on Velvet’s lungs like tinder, and when she opened her mouth to fire back she half expected smoke to billow out, black and acrid. Yet the flames never came, stopping herself when she recalled Weiss’s cool stare and bright teeth. Admittedly, something about the mythic put Velvet plenty on edge too, yet it wasn’t out of fear and more a morbid curiosity. Velvet liked to believe she could size a person up rather well, yet Weiss was oddly self-restrained, something running hot beneath the surface that was tamped down by an icy exterior, magma under sheer ice. It was like the edge of a knife, knowing it could split skin so easily and yet barely held at bay, and even Velvet had to privately confess that Weiss perhaps wouldn’t have been the last person she’d have suspected a murderer. Only time would tell if she was wrong to presume it.

Luckily, Blake was faster to retort, eyes flashing bright gold when the sunlight caught just right. “And? We’re all killers here Oryza, no matter the _circumstances_.”

“Hah,” Kaniwa finally spoke up, tossing her braids over her shoulder as she shot Oryza a toothy grin that made the scar across her cheek and nose curve. “They’ve got you there.”

Oryza’s mouth twisted, swirling his tea once more before downing whatever dregs were left to be had, and in the ensuing silence Velvet pushed aside her empty bowl to reach across the table for an apple in the centerpiece bowl instead. The skin was taut, bright red and juicy, and Velvet turned it about in her hand before bringing it to her lips, the surface cool to the touch.

No matter the conspiracies or the distrust, it was true that everything that had happened yesterday had surprised her as much as anyone else. All of the previous night she’d spent awake with Blake, whispering in hushed tones about Bonyorn, of the strange Faunus who had arrived, of Weiss and her scar and her mismatched eyes. She felt so puzzling, like an off-beat rhythm in a room full of music, present yet untraceable. Velvet couldn’t help but want to find out more yet her mother’s resigned voice rung in her ears: _you’ll do what I couldn’t over several years._ Would Weiss really be that hard to become friends with?

“Anyway,” Blake began with toss of their raven hair over one shoulder, showing purple where it was struck by sunlight, and Velvet’s teeth sunk into the apple with a satisfying crunch. “That said, I think we-”

Even though there was nothing to indicate it over the timbre of Blake’s voice, the barest echo of a cry made Velvet’s ears perk high and swivel towards the open doors like the first note of a siren’s song, Blake’s doing much the same. Oryza looked over one shoulder, dark emerald eyes surveying the doorway as if to spot a threat, but when a second wail made Velvet’s ears strain even harder to draw her to the source, she offered Blake a noise of acknowledgement before dislodging her teeth from the apple, juice dripping down her chin. “I’ll handle that,” she announced, pushing herself up and off the well-worn bench and giving Oryza and Kaniwa a bright smile as she readjusted the orange wrap around her body, the cloth soft from years of wear. “Continue as you were, and I’ll be back in just a moment.”

Kaniwa nodded and Oryza turned back around, picking up his empty cup to take a sip before hesitating and putting it back down with a clink of ornate stone upon wood. Blake gave Velvet a smile, though, eyes as dark and golden as half-melted amber, and Velvet felt her heart flutter in her chest before turning on her heel, making for the open doorway that permitted a gentle breeze to move through the feasting room.

Blake had spoke up again by the time she passed under the open doorway into a wide corridor, bare feet padding against cool wooden boards as their voice carried in the air, echoed from the walls and into the throne room directly ahead of Velvet. From where she stood she could see the tall-backed seats like dark silhouettes, the Hall ahead barren of all the people that had filled it yesterday, but Velvet’s feet took her towards her left instead, following the corridor into the eastern wing. The pale, wood-lined walls and heavy varnished beams still housed the bitter tones of Blake’s tea even as far as a heavy tapestry at the end of the corridor that covered an empty door frame, the fabric depicting an ancient sunset that had been painstakingly realised in every stitch. Behind it Velvet could still hear high keens for attention, but there was also a deeper voice, murmuring soothingly in an attempt to quiet the sound. Smiling, Velvet put an arm beneath the tapestry, lifting high to duck into the room with barely a whisper of sound.

Inside, the room was dark. The shutters on the windows were bolted tight still, blocking out all but a few narrow rays of light, but Velvet’s eyes were quick to adjust. In the far corner of the room stood one guard of the White Fang, dressed in the ceremonial white and red robes of their station and holding a wickedly sharp glaive that almost touched the ceiling. The polished blade glimmered like a mirror, and the half-mask of white and red that covered the Faunus’s eyes betrayed nothing of their thoughts. Yet the same could not be said for the other, an elk Faunus by the name of Kapil, whose glaive rested in the opposite corner as they leaned down to reach into a heavy, hand-carved cot, mask pushed up to their forehead.

“Shush now, it’s okay…”

Velvet had hand-picked only six guards to watch over Kobicha; all of them were younger, inexperienced with the more tumultuous times that prior Chieftains and their guards had had to face, and even her council had once whispered beliefs that those so young were unfit to do something as momentous as guard the Chieftain’s child. Yet Velvet had liked them for their compassion, the innocence that left them green, the fact they’d never ignore Kobi if they cried. They’d do a better job defending them if they loved Kobi in their own way, their guardianship bolstered by their hearts.

The guard in the corner - Sorrel - cleared their throat pointedly upon Velvet’s entry, and Kapil glanced upwards, eyes catching the light in a greenish glow before they bolted upright, a blush bright enough to been seen even in the low-light as they pulled their hand from the cot. “Chieftain Scarlatina, my apologies-”

Waving their words away, Velvet crossed over the room, feet padding against a multicoloured rug in the middle of the floor as Kapil bowed their head and took a pace backwards, giving her space to stop beside the cot. Kobicha had thoroughly kicked off the blanket that had kept them warm during the night, their little legs still cycling through the air furiously, and they let off another cry even as Velvet reached in to hold one chubby fist of rich brown skin, her other hand stroking black curls of hair and long hare ears.

“You don’t have to apologise for looking after them, Kapil.” Tucking her hands beneath Kobi’s arms Velvet easily picked them up, holding Kobi aloft for just a moment before settling them against her chest. They were still half-asleep, brown eyes blinking owlishly before they yawned, stretching against their mother and butting a little hand against her jaw. “It’s why you’re here, after all.”

Kapil nodded, a touch bashful, but as Kobi squirmed Velvet couldn’t help but be a little surprised at their weight, pressing a kiss to the top of their head to settle them. They were little over a year old now, hair growing thick and curly on their head like wisps of pitch-black smoke, their ears beginning to grow to fit. Kobi now ate at the table with their parents, waddling alongside them as they went on walks through Vaule, old enough to start to speak in a strange mixture of Jarran and Akadyan syllables. Yet it felt like Velvet had only held them for the first time a mere handful of weeks ago, her cub swaddled and pressed into her arms by an exhausted Blake, so small that they fit into Velvet’s palms like they’d been crafted just for her to hold. Hearing them cry for the first time that made Blake’s eyes glow with warmth, a laugh stuttering from their chest, and joy had bloomed in Velvet’s chest like a flame that threatened to burn her body hollow from the sheer ferocity of it, tears blurring her vision as she’d shushed Kobi and cuddled them close-

The memory caught in Velvet’s throat, and she swallowed thickly, Kobi’s gentle cries quick to quiet in the security of Velvet’s arms. Kissing them once more Velvet pat around their legs, the deep purple Akadyan robes revealing they hadn’t wet in the night, to which Velvet murmured words of praise. Then, hefting Kobi a little higher onto her hip, Velvet looked to the guards with another smile. “Keep an eye on the Hall, would you? I think our guests will be departing soon.”

Her address made them stiffen, as softly-spoken as it may have been, but they nodded in return, Kapil sliding their mask back over their eyes before they both raised their weapons from the floor, folding the glaives under their arms so the blades pointed towards the ground. Then, with Sorrel leading the way, they filed out together with the bright whites and bloody reds of their uniforms fluttering around their bare calves, ducking beneath the tapestry to head out into the corridor. Velvet took another look about Kobicha’s room - the very same one she and her siblings had once slept in only a few years prior - the toys on the floor as old as Velvet’s mother, if not older still. Then, as Kobi made a gurgle, Velvet followed after them, lifting the tapestry high and and sliding beneath. From the end of the corridor came hushed murmurs from the guards, out of sight yet their footfalls long echoing in the empty Hall, and from the feasting room Velvet could hear Kaniwa laugh at something, Blake’s low chuckle a familiar rumble.

Kobi sniffled, rubbing their face into Velvet’s bare shoulder, and she cooed to them before Velvet headed back towards the feasting room proper, sparing only one last glance to Sorrel and Kapil now stood in the throne room before rounding the corner.

Every eye was drawn to her as she strode back to her place on the bench, one of the Hall’s attendants swapping out one pot of tea for another, and Blake quietly thanked them before a demure smile grew into a grin at the sight of Kobi. It took a moment to arrange her cub on her lap once Velvet was sat down, but Blake quickly scooted closer from the end of the table to be able to touch Kobi’s tall ears, velvet fur soft on the fingertips. For now they were just starting to fit Kobi, growing from little fuzzy folds into lengthy hare ears, yet Velvet knew from experience that it wouldn’t be long before they’d be oversized and flopping for it, adult ears always faster to grow than the body they were attached to. Blake’s hand moved to smooth down the thick curls of hair that obscured the base of Kobi’s ears, but the moment they moved their palm away all the cowlicks just sprung up again, damp with sweat and tears.

“There’s my beautiful cub,” they murmured softly, their smile glowing in the light as they stroked one plump cheek. “Sleep well, baby?”

Kobi mouthed a bunch of sounds, words interspersed with a few _mamas_ , too focused on staring at all the food on the table and too young to give much of a cohesive answer anyway. Using one corner of the wrap Velvet wiped at Kobi’s damp cheeks and runny nose, the little cub waving their arms to try and fend her off. “I think they did, given they’d slept through the night without much trouble. Want some food, Kobi?”

Already little hands reached out for Velvet’s toothmarred apple, grabbing eagerly at the air with tiny fingers, and Velvet laughed as Blake stood with a chuckle, spooning out more honey-thick zabkasa into another bowl. From the other side of the table Kaniwa watched with a fond smile, waving to Kobi when she caught their eye, and Velvet wondered if she was thinking of her own pair of cubs; both were grown, of course, the young women boasting twin penchants for weaponry and war alike. Velvet had fought alongside them on more than one occasion when so-called King Travertine’s men had dared too close to the borderlands, the human armies being chased from the Faunus territories like the infestation they were. One day Velvet would teach Kobi how to do the same, allowing them to hold a blade once they turned twelve summers old, showing all the softest places to strike and telling them that under no circumstances should they offer mercy to an enemy that had shown them none.

Her attention quickly diverted when Kobi’s first attempt at a mouthful of food, wielding a spoon much like how Velvet would a club, ended up mostly on their cheeks and around their mouth as opposed to in it, and Blake barked out a laugh as Velvet shook her head, pressing her palm to her forehead exasperatedly. Such fantasties were a little early, perhaps; the years were young yet.

“Nevertheless,” Oryza spoke up once Kobi had settled into eating, a hint of impatience lacing his tone and knitting his eyebrows, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on the table as his fingers steepled before his face. “Back to the matter of Bonyorn. I don’t believe we should allow them into our circle without a few watchful eyes. Call me paranoid all you may, but they could be more dangerous than we can expect.”

“Aren’t we all,” Kaniwa flatly replied, bright yellow eyes narrowing. “No more dangerous than you or I. Just because they’re rarely seen and have been absent in the light of internal politics doesn’t make them utterly alien to us. Nor does that constitute them becoming our enemies.” Picking up her own cup of tea, she made a little toast to Blake before downing it in one, the cup set back onto the table hard enough to echo like the cracking of a branch. “Times like these, we need every ally we can get.”

“When did I deny that?” He asked pointedly, reaching up to scratch above one eyebrow with a huff. “I’m just saying we’d best make sure they don’t sow any seeds we’d rather not see come to harvest.”

The brittle silence that followed, settling over the table in uneven shards of glass that hung overhead like blades, was only shattered in its entirety when Kobi spat out a blueberry, giggling when Blake tutted and reached over to wipe Kobi’s chin with their thumb. “If it comforts you, Oryza,” they started, licking the remnants of Kobi’s food off their hand. “Velvet and I fully intend to talk at length with the Bonyornic people.” The look Blake levelled across the table was sharp, and even though Oryza was far bigger and broader than the willowy Blake, he still visibly shrunk under their hard amber gaze. “But we welcomed them as friends, so as friends they will stay.”

Kaniwa attempted to cover her laugh with a cough, as poor as it may have been, before rolling her neck and raising her head to address Blake and Velvet, ignoring Oryza’s glare. “A fair judgment. I look forward to hearing how these talks progress, and for Bonyorn’s continued presence at future festivals. Though, as fun as it’s been with all of you-” Kaniwa stood with a scrape of the bench, her striped and spotted cheetah-like tail swishing behind her. “I must get back to my daughters. We’re to spar until midday, and they’re both rather impatient.”

Nodding, Blake’s eyes lightened when they no longer trained on Oryza, their smile friendly. “Of course. Thank you for your time with us.”

“I, too, should go-” Oryza quickly, awkwardly added, bumping the table with his thighs as he rose and making Blake have to grab for their cup of tea, the table shaking as Kobi laughed. “Thank you for breakfast, and for your wisdom.”

The last part was almost forced from between his teeth. Neither of them were children, as much as he wanted to believe otherwise, and having Blake so thoroughly shoot him down must have stung. Yet Velvet didn’t let her satisfaction show, idly running her fingers through Kobi’s hair. “No need to thank us,” she replied, Blake sipping at their rescued tea as Kobi reached out for it, eager to share whatever their parents ate or drank. “We must work together in such uncertain times as these. Strength in harmony.”

“And peace in unity,” Kaniwa responded, her closed fist touching her forehead, then mouth, then over her heart in the traditional greeting and farewell of Zverni. Oryza, however, brought his open palm up until his fingers almost touched his hairline, drawing a line to divide his face down to the chin in the salute of Riqra. Both Blake and Velvet responded in kind, Blake bowing with their hands clasped together and Velvet crossing her fists up over her head, and even Kobi did their best impression of both, flailing their spoon in the air. Kaniwa chuckled and even Oryza’s mouth twitched in a smile before they turned to leave, talking together in quiet tones as they moved farther and farther away from the feasting room. Distantly, Velvet could hear the doors into the Gathering Hall open, the conversation fading into nothingness, and then the whole building echoed as they shut once more.

Silence. Velvet sighed as she stroked Kobi’s hair absently, her cub burping and giggling as more of their food ended up everywhere but in their mouth, yet Velvet mumbled soft words of encouragement anyway. The feasting room was just barely too quiet when it was just them alone, the only noise being that of the attendants in the kitchens to the rear preparing the next feast for the festival, and Blake exhaled as they reached for Velvet’s empty cup, pouring in more steaming tea. Kobi’s curious hands reached out once more as Blake passed the cup over, chastising them as one of their larger hands grasped their wrist loosely, preventing them from burning their fingers.

“Oh, Kobi,” they admonished, though there was nothing but affection in the words. “Nothing’s ever easy, is it?”

Kobi squirmed in Velvet’s arms as she held the cup aloft, syllables falling together in another incoherent mess of Jarran and Akadyan words, and Velvet hummed as she gently bounced their cub on her knee. “Not for us, no.”

The morning light that was cast across the room strengthened, reflecting off the tables and walls brightly enough to make Velvet squint, and as it filtered though the opened shutters around the room to cast golden rays across the floor it was warm against her back, making tension slowly seep away. From outside came the burbling of noise as people roamed around Vaule, the day beginning in earnest, and Velvet knew that excitement would be palpable in the air as the festival promised to be one of the most memorable in recent history.

Velvet wondered what Weiss was doing.


	3. gripisspa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Velvet talk to their new mysterious friend Weiss. Kobi is there. Things get tense, and then they don't. But they're mostly tense.

Once breakfast had been cleared away and the feasting room had filled instead with attendants hungering after their own, Blake and Velvet decided to take advantage of the dry, sunny morning to take a walk through Vaule, welcoming the first real day of the festival proper. By now all their guests would be settling in, readying their own form of celebrations with their kin, and Velvet wanted to see that everything was progressing smoothly. This was her first time hosting the festival, and she’d not see it go wrong under her watch.

So, Blake dressed Kobi in Jarran day attire, a bolt of soft grey and purple cloth tied across their tiny body over a pure black chemise and brown britches, before Velvet combed the knots out of midnight curls, sliding leather sandals onto little feet and kissing all ten perfect toes, making her cub giggle. Then, once ready to face the day in earnest, both parents took one of Kobi’s hands as they headed into the empty throne room, Kobi waddling between them as they went.

Stood at the doors into the Gathering Hall - now shut until that evening for celebrations of Threphyne, the second day devoted to retellings of ancient battles and victories - were Kapil and Sorrel, stood facing into the throne room with glaives at the ready, but when the trio walked closer the pair bowed low, Kapil smiling as they glanced to Kobi. “Greetings, Heir Kobicha. Your settlement awaits you.”

At that Kobi made a little sound of wonder, dropping their weight so that Velvet had to lift them back onto their feet, and both guards stood tall again, smiles slipping into sedate expressions once more. When Velvet motioned to the door Sorrel knocked twice against old, solid wood, and with a wail and groan of hinges the doors opened outwards, the light outside making Velvet have to squint against the brightness. Still, she stepped forwards, Blake and Kobi doing the same, and as they passed over the threshold Kapil and Sorrel saluted, bringing their glaives between their feet and fists crossed overhead.

Outside, the morning sun was pleasantly warm, the sky overhead dotted with nothing but a few fluffy clouds. From behind Velvet the two guards on the other side were quick to shut the doors once the family had cleared the entrance, pushing them back into place with a resounding thud before taking up their places either side of the doorframe, and Velvet gave them both a smile before glancing about, taking in the sights from the top of Vaule. With the Gathering Hall settled on top of the only hill in the valley the whole of the settlement could be seen for miles around, all the way from the glittery, hazy blue sea of the eastern coast all the way to the blood-topped trees of Forever Fall, the mountains behind the forest crowned with craggy peaks that almost reached the stars some nights. And all the way between, guided by one thick central road that led from water to wood, from the tang of salt to wet soil, was Vaule, homes lining uneven streets and tents erected in what little space that was left to find. Pillars of smoke rose high and tall from the burnt out bonfires of the previous night, music playing settlement-wide with the distinctive notes of different tribes, and trees laden with fruits and emerald leaves swayed in the gentle breeze that cut across the valley.

All along Vaule’s central road streamed Faunus like a river, busy with tasks and errands even in the early hour, and they branched off without rhyme nor reason towards different places, guided faithfully by the clay-rich path cut by Velvet’s grandfather, and his grandmother, and her great-grandparent before her. Vaule had stood much longer than Velvet could fathom, as much a part of the landscape as the landscape around them, and some of the thatched and wooden and tiled rooves that were densely packed together could be seen in old painting and tapestries. Constructed from the dark red wood of Forever Fall and ornately carved with the sigils of each clan, storefronts marked by tall stones painted with signage, most had stood for hundreds of years and, if luck permitted, would stand for hundreds of many more.

Looking over everything, the view wide and immense, Velvet could feel Kobi squeezing her hand and she glanced across to Blake, who was soaking in the sight with a sweet little smile. Even though Blake had already been calling Jarro their second home for two years, learning the tongue in hardly two seasons and adapting to the Jarran ways like they’d been raised there all their life, Vaule was clearly a place Blake would never get tired of seeing on days like this, when the sky was a perfectly endless shade of blue and the horizon was a perfect, unbroken line in the far distance. It made Velvet’s heart swell with pride, happy to see her people at peace. No matter what, no matter how hard it’d be or the price she might have to pay, she’d preserve it at best she could.

“Shall we?” Blake offered once they managed to return Velvet’s gaze, and she nodded, looking down to see Kobi already attempting to waddle on ahead.

“Let’s.”

Moving down Vaule’s central road together, the hill steep enough that Velvet made sure to keep a tight grip on Kobi, they soon began to join the throngs of people moving back and forth through the settlement, Kobi’s eyes wide as they took in the sight of all the strangers in foreign clothing. Many acknowledged Blake and Velvet in the greetings of far-off tongues, several more offering salutes of the tribes, and once the family reached the bottom of the hill where four White Fang guards stood to attention, ready for any enemies who’d attempt to scale the sheer hill to the Gathering Hall, two fell into step behind them without even a word, following their footsteps dutifully with their weapons at the ready.

Carts rattled by, some guided by horses or mules and others pulled along by Faunus hands, some full of food and others full of tools and things to trade at market, and Velvet watched young children help each other to clamber onto the backs of the wagons as quietly as they could, hitching rides to their next destination. It filled her with a sense of nostalgia, remembering her cousins boosting her aboard when they’d all been young, riding all the way to the coastline and back. More familiar still were the shouts as the cubs were spotted, the cart’s owner attempting to swat them off as they laughed and screamed, leaping off to flee down the narrow, shadowy gaps between people’s homes. Kobi made a bubbly laugh, leaning back to see several bright eyes staring out from the darkness as the Chieftains walked past, but Velvet made sure to send a grin and wink their way that caused a wave of laughter in their wake.

“Actually, that reminds me,” she started, nodding to one of Vaule’s guards as they patrolled the streets, leather armour stained a deep crimson. “My mam has invited us for dinner during the week, and we’re not allowed to decline.”

“Perish the thought,” Blake stated, grinning widely. “I know better than to offend her otherwise.”

Craning her head, Velvet looked over the rooves that filled out the land before her, the road still sloping downwards, and she could just about spot the roof and chimney of the Scarlatina homestead, smoke rising up in a tall pillar. Tradition dictated that the Chieftain and their partners and children lived together in the Gathering Hall, but the Scarlatina home was where the rest of Velvet’s family had always resided. Velvet’s grandparents had lived there since they’d stepped down as Chieftain and aide, her aunt and uncle and their children the ones who presided over the maintenance and clan dealings. Once her parents had stepped down from the thrones, they, too, had moved in too with Velvet’s siblings in tow, and the extra rooms that had been built to accommodate them all had developed into an extra wing, the home now large enough to almost rival the Gathering Hall in terms of area, if not in height. It only made sense for them to stay as tight-knit as they did, living and sharing together over generations, since family ties only became more crucial than ever in times of war. Despite Velvet living in the Gathering Hall and spending seasons across the ocean in Akadya, her obligations to her clan remained steadfast, and her family wouldn’t let her forget it.

Velvet, however, had a different obligation in mind for the moment, scanning the dense crowds that travelled through Vaule both familiar and strange, and when she finally spotted broad shoulders and white hair in the far distance she let go of Kobi’s hand to jog down the path, waving for the White Fang guards to stay back when one tried to make chase. If anyone attempted to attack her - as stupid as they may be to try - she’d rather Kobi was safe than her battle-scarred self. So, swerving and dodging around other Faunus with mumbled apologies, Velvet closed in on the Bonyornic Faunus, steps slowing the closer she came.

The Faunus was one of the polar bear blooded boys, their steps heavy enough to make the ground about them quake just a little, as wide as two people abreast and just as weighty for it. Semi-translucent fur was thick on their head, arms and back, catching the light in odd ways, and in their shirtless state Velvet could see dark lines of paint cross over their chest, sticking to the fuzz on the front of their body and covering up old scars. Dust and dirt from the pathways stained their calves orange and brown, and on one muscled shoulder were carried thick wooden stakes to pitch sizeable tents with, barely sweating despite the immense weight they must have amounted to. Even when Velvet reached their side she still had to lightly jog to keep up with their long strides, and she blanched when she realised she barely reached the curve of their shoulder, the tips of her ears just about reaching the line of their eyes.

Pale eyes dropped from the horizon to her face, and there was a low grumble of acknowledgement, their pace slowing just a touch.

It took a moment for them to find a shared language; common was a mishmash of almost every Faunus tribal language, formed for times of diplomacy and camaraderie, and Velvet didn’t know a word of Bonyornic that hadn’t wormed its way into common somehow. Whether or not common was well-practised in Bonyorn given their isolated state, she didn’t know, but it seemed the Bonyornic Faunus knew enough that when she asked where their people had chosen to camp, they pointed into the distance towards the coast, somewhere to the north-east.

“There, beside the shore,” they rumbled out, voice low enough that every syllable became a growl. “On a cliff that overlooks our boats.”

“Thank you,” Velvet responded with a smile, though the expression she got in return was a touch closer to a grimace than anything else. Still, she had an idea of where they spoke of, thankfully; the coastline was overlooked by many a sheer cliff, defending Vaule from any Grimm that dared crawl out from the seas, but one reached higher than the rest, forming a grassy knoll above a stony beach that was defended from the winds of a sometimes vicious sea. Velvet had sat upon it to watch the fisherfolk out on the waters many a time before, far enough from Vaule that the noise didn’t carry as far, and it came as no surprise that the secluded Bonyorn would capitalise on it. So, once Kobi and Blake had caught up, the guards a few paces behind, Velvet leaned down to ruffle Kobi’s hair before reaching forwards to catch her fingers beneath Blake’s chin, tugging them close to press a kiss to their smiling mouth.

“Ready to talk to our new friend?” She asked as she pulled away, and Blake’s crooked smirk made her heart skip a beat or two, especially when they snuck another kiss in against her cheek.

“Of course. Are we going far?”

Velvet pointed out where she’d been told to go, and without another word Blake hefted Kobi into their arms and onto their hip, spitting out a few soft strands of Kobi’s black hair when the wind carried it right into their mouth. “Well then, Chieftain Scarlatina. Lead the way.”

Batting their arm with a chuckle, Velvet tweaked Kobi’s nose before they set off down the road together, watching as the faces of those Jarran-born and those new to their lands passed them by. It’d be a familiar sight over the next week, becoming commonplace to the point that once everyone returned home Jarro would feel empty in their absence, but their presence brought with them new music and food that would be shared and passed around, knowledge shared freely and without price, and Velvet looked forward to every moment of it. It was custom to share parts of a tribe’s culture, teaching dances and recounting tales of places some would never see, and a lingering thought reminded Velvet of Weiss’s duty as a storykeeper, preserving legend and myth; she must have known of hundreds of Bonyornic stories. Since it’d been such a long time since the tribe had last stepped on Jarran territory, Velvet was very unfamiliar with their traditions and customs, so if Weiss deigned to tell some of what she knew it’d be refreshing to learn it all.

The thought made Velvet hurry her steps, eagerness getting the better of her.

Slowly, but surely, the air around them became saltier as they approached the coastline, and soon Velvet’s skin was a little sticky to the touch, a lick of her lips leaving her with an ocean tang in her mouth. Linking hands with Blake and squeezing their knuckles revealed their skin was much the same, and soon the path became sandier, the amount of homes petering off as they came within a stone’s throw of the sheer, rocky cliff-face. The breeze was cool, several boats far out on clear blue waters as they hauled nets of fish aboard, and towers of stone and wood were erected on the cliffs to keep an eye out for any shadowy forms of Grimm that would try and attack out of the sea. Yet Velvet’s attention was caught by the sight of pale, conical tents pitched exactly where she’d predicted. Meanwhile, Blake had lifted Kobi up high once they’d come closer to the edge of the cliff, letting them see the narrow longboats that were anchored along the pebbled shore belong with thickly woven rope. Up ahead the Bonyornic folk roamed between the tents, digging pits in the ground to erect the tall stakes that held up their shelters as others walked up and down the narrow path leading to the beach below, cut into the face of the cliff.

It was almost like seeing a dusting of summer frost, an illusion Velvet couldn’t shake even as they walked ever closer, all the pale tones of skin and hair and tent and clothing contrasted with dark shades of black, blue and brown. Nobody noticed their approach at first, too busy on their own individual tasks, but eventually one young Faunus glanced up from their work as they carried supplies into camp, taking a step back in surprise before calling to the camp in three sharp syllables that echoed around like the ringing of a bell.

All at once, the encampment went still. Frozen like sculptures of opaque ice, several stared down towards the Chieftains as others were quick to drop what they were doing, retreating into the safety of their tents with nary a glance backwards. Blake turned back to the guards and murmured something, and the pair nodded once before moving a few paces away, giving them some space. Whether that was the cause of unease Velvet couldn’t be sure, but eventually someone headed further up the knoll towards the largest tent in the camp, adorned by a fluttering, decorative banner that bore the crude eye shape that Velvet recognised from Weiss’s shoulders. They leant in through the flap of the shelter, holding still for a few seconds as they pointed over one shoulder, and as Velvet approached the border of the encampment the flap was pushed aside so that Weiss could stride out, drawing every eye upwards.

Her white hair was loose atop her head and the sealskin pareo, as well as the black paint that had covered her eyes, was absent, feet bare as ever as sand-strewn grass tickled at her ankles, and as she walked her hands came up to comb her hair back with her fingers, tying it back with a leather cord kept around one wrist. Still, loose locks fluttered down by her ears and in front of her eyes, tucked back once she was done with the cord, and then she came to a stop only a few steps within the perimeter of the camp, mismatched eyes fixing Velvet with a cool stare.

Perhaps it wasn't the most friendly expression to be faced with, but then again, Weiss hadn’t cracked a single smile the whole day prior, eyebrows knitted with tension and mouth set into a hard, stoic line. Even when Blake and Velvet had offered farewells as the tribe had left for camp the previous night, Weiss’s response had been, in a word, _terse_ , but even now it seemed that her face was constantly set into a series of harsh angles, the line of her jaw sharp and tight. Perhaps Oryza had good reason to be cautious when faced with someone as stony faced as this, yet Velvet couldn’t quite find it in her heart to apply the same suspicion. Even when on familiar terms Velvet’s mother could attest to the coldness of their homelands seeping into their personalities, even if it wasn’t intentional, yet with more than a decade’s worth of a rift between them, Weiss’s gaze was honed to a deadly point, searching beneath the skin and right into Velvet’s soul.

Weiss’s hands dropped to her sides, and Velvet could hear the guards tense even as Weiss rolled her sloping shoulders, loose and relaxed. Although Velvet had no doubt that in a contest of strength she’d be victorious every time, something about the way Weiss was cast in the light, knife-edged shadows dark against her skin, made her… _intimidating_ in a way Velvet wasn’t familiar with. This was different to facing down an enemy twice her size, warding off a human with a vicious, Dust-forged blade - it was more akin to walking across a frozen lake and hearing ice crack threateningly underfoot, a constant threat that hung overhead like a dark, bloated raincloud. With hair and skin as pale as bleached bone, one eye as deep as the ocean floor and the other like storming skies, Velvet couldn’t help but imagine this moment in another life, facing each other on the battlefield.

Even just the daydream of Weiss, blood-splattered and furious, was enough to make Velvet’s heart race in her chest, fear prickling at the back of her neck.

“Chieftain Scarlatina, Belladonna.” Weiss canted her head towards them both in turn, but when her eyes settled on Kobicha she paused, blinking slowly before her eyes widened, Kobi staring right back at her with an open mouth. “Your… cub?”

Kobicha looked far too like either of them to be anyone else’s, and Blake made a noise of affirmation, bouncing Kobi in their arms before pressing a kiss to their cheek, though it did little to stop the cub in question from gazing at Weiss with round, curious eyes. “Yes, this is Kobicha Belladonna, heir to our titles and first of our children.”

Weiss’s eyebrows rose sharply, and she opened her mouth with words just on the barest tip of her tongue when she worked her jaw shut again, instead taking a tentative step closer, then another, then another, all the way until she was stood before Blake, looking Kobi over as if they were some sort of threat. Kobi reached out with an inquisitive gurgle and Weiss indulged, offering her hand for their cub to grab at her fingers experimentally. “Oh,” she started. “I, ah, wasn’t aware you… had a child. They weren’t present yesterday?” The words came out lilted like a question, confusion radiating off Weiss in waves, and Velvet had to hide a little smile as she stepped closer to them both, stroking up one of Kobi’s velvety ears as they continued to toy with Weiss’s hand.

“Mm, no, they weren’t.” She flashed a grin at Weiss, liking how off-guard they’d caught her. Weiss just seemed so much younger then, surprise making her tension melt away, and Velvet wondered if Weiss were younger than even Blake. “We’d rather let them be a child for a little longer; nobody needs to be burdened with the woes of being a Chieftain- or even an heir, really, at their age.”

Blake laughed as Velvet grinned at Weiss, and the shorter Faunus just rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t quite stop a smile that quirked at the corner of her mouth. Right away Velvet focused on Weiss’s face, committing the sight to memory before it disappeared as easily as dandelion seeds in the wind. She had decent reason to suspect she wouldn’t be seeing it again soon.

Once Kobi was bored of playing with Weiss’s hand, letting go of her fingers to instead fuss with the long curls of Blake’s hair, Weiss stared at Kobi for a good while longer before she exhaled, face settling back into her usual disposition as if it’d never changed at all. Then, clearing her throat lightly, Weiss squared her shoulders and wet her lips, looking to Velvet with a flat gaze. “So, to what do I owe this visit?”

“A walk,” Blake simply replied, though it did make Weiss’s eyebrows rise once more, eyes jumping between the two cautiously. Velvet, meanwhile, couldn’t stop thinking about how the black paint across her eyes had hidden the subtleties of her face so well before, now so clearly on display that all the little nuances felt obvious. “We’re acquainted with every Chieftain here, save for you. We’d like to walk, talk, find some common ground between us.”

“And we know very little about your people, in all honesty,” Velvet added after a moment when Weiss didn’t respond, still watching them both closely. “And we’d rather not be victim to rumour.”

Weiss’s eyes dropped to the ground, mulling it over as she reached to comb back another loose strand of hair, and then she licked pointed teeth over before standing a little taller, brows knitting together.

“I’m not a Chieftain,” she stated firmly, but after another second she nodded. “Very well. Lead on.”

Smiling, Velvet gestured back towards the way they came, the White Fang guards standing to attention silently at the side of the path, before she took the lead, Blake turning on their heel to keep pace beside her. She didn’t need to look back to know the people on the hill were still watching them go, standing vigilant as Weiss followed them along the trail that lined the curving, rocky cliffs of Vaule, the guards falling into step behind the four of them without another word.

It didn’t take long before the Bonyornic camp was soon hidden behind the knoll entirely, and not much longer after that until Vaule was far enough away that all Velvet could hear was the sound of the tide below and the chirp of crickets in the long grass around them, birds squawking overhead as they circled deep, blue waters that flushed through the caves that riddled the cliffs.  A perfect sort of calm for a perfect sort of day. Weiss’s fingers ran though the occasional patch of colourful, mismatched flowers, humming when she plucked a pale yellow one and wound it about her wrist, tracing the fragile edge of glossy petals with the very tip of her finger. Velvet wondered if they had flowers in Bonyorn. According to some their tribelands was a barren place, lacking almost everything needed to survive, yet Jarro flourished with life in a way Velvet hadn’t really seen anywhere else. It had to have all been very new.

With a little muffled grumble Kobi began to squirm in Blake’s arms, kicking their legs out and pushing against their shoulders, and once they progressed onto saying _down, down,_ Blake placed them onto two unsteady feet, watching with a smile as they beelined for Weiss a handful of paces ahead. Weiss hadn’t noticed, too distracted staring out across the fields that topped the cliffs in a thousand shades of green, but once Kobi reached up to grab her hand, little fingers curling around her own, she stopped dead in her tracks, inspecting the cub before looking to their parents expectantly. Velvet had to smother a laugh at Weiss’s face, completely and thoroughly confused, and she gave Weiss a little encouraging nod. “They’d like to say hello to you, I reckon.”

Looking back down to Kobi again, who raised their arms up to be lifted, Weiss rolled her shoulders with a little sigh before crouching low to tuck her hands beneath tiny arms. Despite Kobi’s increasing - and sometimes frankly surprising - weight, she raised them up and onto her hip with ease, giving them a narrow, unsure smile. “Hello, Kobicha.”

Kobi, delighted as always to see a new face, was quick to explore this new landscape, running their hands over high cheekbones and tugging at loose locks of snow-white hair, fingers tracing and poking at the long scar over her eye before pointing to their own face, almost as if to say _I don’t have that, so why do you?_ Weiss, to Velvet’s relief, smiled even broader, and when all her sharp teeth glistened in the sunlight it drew an audible gasp from Kobi, moments before they tried to put their whole hand into her mouth, eager to touch and feel.

Blake stepped forwards, reaching for their cub, but Weiss just leaned her head back, grasping Kobi’s arm and pulling their fingers away before any damage could be done. “Excuse you,” she murmured, though her smile stayed stuck and remained, in Velvet’s eyes, still a strange sight to see. “Unless you’d rather become bereft of a hand, I’d stay out of there if I were you.”

Even though Kobi was too young to parse more than a few words of that at best, a sharp accent sometimes obscuring unfamiliar syllables entirely, they still giggled at the reprimand, ears perking high before they wrapped little arms about Weiss’s neck, cuddling close. Blake didn’t manage to stop a snort at the sheer bemusement and mild concern that was painted on Weiss’s face in a wondrous mix of emotion, and they finally walked close enough to rest a palm against Kobi’s back, thumb rubbing circles between their shoulder blades. “You have quite a way with them. They like you.”

At that, Weiss’s face flushed nearly as pink the flowers behind her, blooming across her cheeks and the narrow bridge of her nose like a rose. “O-oh. Well, um-”

Watching the trio - Weiss mumbling and stuttering as Blake watched with a pleased little grin - made a rush of affection settle in Velvet’s heart, and when Weiss unsuccessfully attempted to pry Kobi off, she murmured something that made Kobi’s ears prick, too low for Velvet to overhear. Just like that they unlatched without complaint, staring up at Weiss with their mouth agape, and Velvet just blinked. More than a few times she’d had to peel Kobi away from both herself and Blake when they’d decided to be stubborn (which, with parents like theirs, was more often than not), yet Weiss had made it look as easy as falling over, handing Kobi back to Blake with averted eyes.

“Do you have children of your own?” Velvet couldn’t help but ask once Kobi was safe in Blake’s arms once more, and Weiss stiffened right away. “You really _do_ have quite a way with them.”

Exhaling, Weiss shook her head, one hand toying with the flower wound about her wrist. “No, I don’t.”

There was a pause, and after Weiss took a long breath in, she continued. “I- well, I’ve helped to deliver children before, and it’s not unusual for us to look after each other’s cubs when needed. Our mythics, too, are prepared for their role in the tribe from a very young age. I suppose I’ve just… picked things up over time when they’re under my care.”

In Velvet’s deeply honest opinion, it didn’t exactly explain a whole lot of anything, really, but she nodded mutely anyway and watched as Kobi wriggled their way from Blake’s grip once more. This time, once they were back on the ground again Blake took custody of one little hand in their own, but Kobi didn’t try to escape them, happy for stay put for once. It was funny; they looked so alike, Kobi and Blake, that if it hadn’t been for the tall ears of Scarlatina heritage on the top of Kobi’s curls of hair it’d be easy to mistake the two as some sort of odd mirage, like a vision of past and future. Of course, when Kobi swiveled their head about to look at Velvet with a little wave, their brown eyes were a mimicry of Velvet’s, not a hint of golden amber in sight. Not to say they didn’t light up in exactly the same way, of course, shining bright at the next new interest as Blake’s did when reading from ancient Akadyan tomes. It was a look Velvet had come to associate with mud and grass stains over dark clothing, of thorns in soft skin and scrapes across once-unmarred knees.

It was those things that had led to Kali once remarking that Kobi must have taken more after Velvet, since Blake had been a quiet, shy child who’d kept to the corners and shadows and out of everyone’s sight. Velvet had a remarkably different history if her mother’s many stories were any indication, of a cub who had no qualms hurting herself for the cause of adventure, climbing up trees and over walls and onto rooftops, the White Fang forced to chase her every step of the way. Still, Kobi had the best qualities of both of them, she thought; they were adventurous, yes, and deeply curious almost to the point of danger, but they appreciated the quiet hours too, snoozing on Velvet’s chest or sitting quietly, captivated, as Blake recounted countless myths and tales from heart.

Whatever Velvet had expected from parenthood, it hadn’t been the warm, melting feeling she got when Kobi laughed or giggled or slept in her arms. Sometimes it felt like she was always meant to be a warrior first and foremost, bleeding blood and breaking bone in the name of her clan, and Jarro’s future weighed so heavily on her shoulders some days it felt like it’d break her in two. Kobi had been _required_ , yes, but also expected, _wanted_. Yet Velvet had feared that maybe some part of her would regret it. That she’d be too distant, maybe, or that Blake and Velvet wouldn’t be able to care for them with such a vast distance between them both. But despite every fear Kobi had thrived instead, full of so much love in such a tiny body, and not a day went by that they didn’t make Velvet happy. If anything, Velvet would secure Jarro’s future if only so Kobi and their children got to rule it themselves one day.

“That begs a question, if you don’t mind my asking.” It was Blake who broke Velvet from her reverie, and she glanced upwards from where her gaze had drifted to see Weiss hesitate, her guard raising again. Whether she wasn’t used to having so many questions her way or she simply hadn’t decided if they were trustworthy yet, Velvet couldn’t guess, but a small piece of her hoped that wouldn’t be the case forever. “You and your _mythics_ have been the subject of several conversations since your arrival. You’ll have to forgive our ignorance of the matter but… what exactly _is_ a mythic?”

A cloud passed across the overhead sun and the summer breeze drastically cooled, nipping at Velvet’s exposed skin, and she wasn’t blind to how Weiss crossed her arms nor how her fingers brushed the eye shaped paint on her shoulders as she did so. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then worried at her lower lip, eyes drawn towards the open, hazy sea as the sun shone once more. In the far distance, just barely visible as a shadowed shape on the horizon, the island of Pactt was shrouded in the morning mist, and Weiss’s gaze seemed to pause on it for a fraction of a second before her jaw set tight and her shoulders straightened out.

“Mythics are-” she began, and then stopped herself when she caught sight of the guards behind Velvet. Something tickled the edge of Velvet’s perception, buzzing uncomfortably in the air, and when she put all the pieces together she _oh_ ’d, turning on her heel to face the pair with an apologetic smile.

“Ah, would you mind leaving us for a while? Maybe wait further up the path?”

The duo shared a long look, obligated by duty to protect the Chieftains, but after a few seconds they nodded and stepped away. Instantly the buzzing seemed to dim, fading with every stride they took, and Velvet glanced back to Weiss to see her tension slowly draining from her shoulders and pooling at her feet. She licked her teeth again, eyes flicking between the guards and Velvet and Blake, before she sighed. “My apologies. It’s a- a very long story and I don’t-”

“It’s okay,” Blake reassured her when her words tapered off into nothingness, motioning further up the pathway. “We have time. There’s a spot further along that Velvet and I like to frequent, so we can sit there for a while to talk, if you’d like.”

A cough threatened to choke Velvet at the memory of some of the times they’d previously _frequented_ the area, and she hoped the blush that burnt her cheeks was excusable as a side-effect of being stood in the sun for as long as she had. Weiss, however, didn’t seem to take any notice as she followed after Blake, Kobi waddling alongside as they moved further up the cliff. Giving the retreating guards one last look, Velvet made after Weiss.

The coast curved towards the left, a bay beginning to form below as they continued to walk, but soon the ground sloped downwards to stand over a sanded beach that bordered a wide, rocky cove, spired stones jutting from cool blue waters like narrow teeth, seaweed tangled in spirals from top to bottom. Velvet had explored the cove when she was younger, though the way was perilous and not for the faint of heart, nor for those who didn’t have a sense for climbing given the sheer surface of the cliff was slippery and covered in water-saturated mosses. Still, if one managed to survive the trip down, it was worth the risk to sit on the beaches alone, tracing images into white sands or swimming in the lagoons hidden deeper in the caves, torchlight casting flickering shadows on ocean-worn stone.

The cove wasn’t their goal, however; rather, they stopped beside another grassy bluff, a thick patch of grass growing betwixt two ancient stones that kept the spot hidden from view, old carvings scarring the surface and worn from the winds, moss and lichen growing thick across the mottled surface.

Blake and Velvet were quick to sit on the grass together, Kobi squished between them as they stretched out, the sun warming their skin like a an air-light blanket. Weiss however, after a moment of contemplation, chose to jump atop one of the stones instead, sitting with her legs loosely crossed beneath her as she leaned her chin against steepled fingers. Velvet didn’t say it, but having Weiss look _down_ at them, all angular and sharp, made her feel a touch cowed. Averting her eyes just led to her staring at Weiss’s gills, and she found it hard to drag her gaze from how they stood out on light skin, drawn like thin, dark lines beneath the ridges of her ribcage. Still, she busied herself with tucking an arm around Kobi instead, hoping Weiss hadn’t spotted her examination.

“So,” Velvet started somewhat awkwardly, trying not to shrink when Weiss’s full attention landed on her. “Mythics.”

No matter the poor start that was, Weiss just hummed, and for just a moment her gills flexed open until they shut flush against her skin once more. “Mythics are a very, hm… _old_ part of Bonyorn’s history. I guess the real question becomes how much do you know of my tribe’s interactions with the Hallowed Ones?”

It was all mostly legend, from what Velvet could vaguely recall from her youth, but it was Blake who was much more versed in things like books and story and literature. As such, it was no real surprise they were first to reply. “The tale most widely known, I’d imagine, is of Bonyorn sacrificing half the soul of each member of the tribe, and every member henceforth, to survive your tribelands.” It was if they were recounting the words right off the page, as practised as they were. “It’s why your people are said to walk barefoot; to be disconnected from this plain too long may lead to your soul wandering into the Hallow’s plain to rejoin the other half, yes?”

Nodding along to the even rhythm of Blake’s cadence, Weiss chewed on her lip again, pulling her hands apart to crack her knuckles one by one. “Indeed. We became immune to the cold, the snow, the rain, the icy waters of Solitas. But what we didn’t expect was that the offering would have… strange consequences. The Hallow’s plain is a strange place, full of the unreal.”

Rolling her shoulders once more, Weiss sat up straighter and rubbed at the back of her neck, itching the paint that marked her skin, one line missing on her neck from where they’d clearly interrupted their application. “Time doesn’t act the way it does here. Here, it’s a straight line, and everything moves from one direction to the other in unison.” Holding her hands apart a measure, she continued. “But in the Hallow’s plain, it’s all simultaneous. Past, present, and future, all happening and ending in the same instant.” Her hands came together in a clap, the crack of skin on skin echoing loudly enough to make Kobi jump in Velvet’s arm. Even so, they were utterly enraptured, and even Blake didn’t seem to dare blink lest they miss a single detail. “But by having half our souls over _there_ , some of us have gained the ability to see into the Hallow’s plain - and therefore, across time. Past, present, and future.”

She was barely done speaking when Blake leaned forwards so fast that they jostled Kobi out of place with the force of it, eyes wide. “You- you can see the _future?!”_

Weiss didn’t reply right away. Instead, she reached back to let her hair down from its tie, combing it back with her face tilted up to the sun. Velvet didn’t even try to hide her attention then, the perfect column of Weiss’s throat unbelievably alluring in the summer light, a perfect series of curves from chin to collarbone. A quick check on Blake confirmed they were watching her too, mouth open and working for words, though Velvet couldn’t be sure if it was because they were still reeling from Weiss’s revelation or not.

“I can see… all of time,” Weiss began haltingly after a few moments, busying herself with tying her hair up again. “It’s not in my control, as we see our visions in dreams, which means none of them are ever very clear as to what they mean to show.” She looked the trio over then, gauging their reaction. “Sometimes I don’t understand what I’ve seen until I hear about it, or live through it, as the case may be.”

In all honesty, Weiss’s account far surpassed anything Velvet had imagined a mythic to be. Everyone knew of them, the strange people with ghostly eyes who could stare into your soul and divine your real nature, but they’d just been spiritualists at their core, scholars of history and legend and merely that and that alone. Yet the idea that mythics were so much _more_ had somehow been lost in translation… or purposefully omitted. Not that Weiss seemed to have any qualms sharing the truth now. “What kind of things have you seen? Just- just as an example,” she hastily added when Weiss’s eyes narrowed to slivers, teeth flashing for just a moment. Still, Weiss indulged her curiosity.

“Well… many things, really,” she started, choosing words slowly. “Some I’m sure have yet still to pass.”

Reaching down, Weiss began to pick at the moss growing beneath her legs with a sigh, strips of green peeling off without resistance. “I think- I think I may have seen the two of you once. You… you fit.”

All that did was inspire another wave of questions so tall that Velvet was half-swept into the tide, each of them more fascinated and eager than the last, and Blake was quick to push for more. “We fit? How so? What- what did you see?”

Weiss shrugged, but when Blake stayed focused entirely on her, unblinking, she finally relented with a wave of her hand towards Kobi, frowning. “I know I saw them. That’s why I was so… surprised. But it’s hard to be sure when the dream itself is like- it’s like looking at that island over there, all covered in fog.” Weiss canted her head in the direction of Pactt, but when Kobi made a little curious noise at the ladybird that had landed on their leg, Weiss couldn’t stop another small smile. “But I remember them, holding my hand. Someone I wouldn’t meet anywhere _but_ here.”

Kobi seemed to know she was talking about them, judging by the way they gurgled out sounds in response, the word _mama_ intertwined with a distinctly Akadyan mish-mash of a sentence, and Weiss’s smile brightened for just a moment. Velvet didn’t get to indulge in the sight for very long, though, before Weiss’s smile dimmed and her brows knit, continuing to pull at the moss as her mouth fell into another hard line. “As for you two… I don’t know for sure. Maybe what I glimpsed hasn’t been yet, or perhaps it already has.”

Once more she shrugged, as if that was that, but Velvet felt like it didn’t cover even a fraction of all the things she wanted to know. It was like an illusion had been lifted and suddenly Weiss was laid bare before her, all the mysterious caverns to her soul revealed for a wanderer to traverse and map out. But, before she could try and press for more information, Blake’s hand landed on Velvet’s thigh, squeezing the muscle softly. They gave Velvet a demure smile before raising their head to Weiss, affection lacing every syllable as they spoke.

“Thank you, Weiss, for explaining this to us.”

Weiss blinked, frowning harder before she toyed with the hem of her breeches, another rosy blush spreading up the back of her neck and to the tips of her ears. “It’s- it’s fine. It’s no secret.” There was a muttering that sounded distinctly like _not really, anyway_ , and her shoulders rose high, knees lifting as Weiss curled in on herself, hiding her face.

Velvet could understand the feeling. Weiss was far from home for the first time in a very long while, surrounded by unfamiliar faces who spoke a completely strange tongue, and already she’d become Bonyorn’s delegate. Now, here she was, being questioned by two almost-strangers of high station far from the safety of her tribe. No wonder she was being so cautious, weighing every word out.

So, Velvet allowed her the space to breathe, all sitting quietly for a moment as a warmer wind passed over the cliffside, the sun continuing to sluggishly rise higher and higher, casting the fog away from the seas. From far below came the beat of the tide against jagged rocks, in perfect sync to Velvet’s breaths, the waters slow and cool. Questions still hung in the air like ripened fruits, tantalising and and begging to be picked yet gradually fading with each passing second, but as Kobi began to rip at the grass between their legs Blake finally sighed as they rested back, wetting their lips in thought.

“So,” they started, and Weiss’s shoulders tensed, her face pressed to the crook of one elbow. “How does one… _become_ a mythic? You mentioned only a few can see into the other plain, but I’ve heard other tales-”

Weiss’s head snapped up all of a sudden, teeth clashing together as she hissed, one blue eye cold with anger. “I’ve heard what the people here _whisper_. They don’t hide that they think me and my people are _barbaric_.”

A chill ran all the way up Velvet’s spine to settle right against the base of her skull, Weiss’s razored snarl a promise that if they toed the line much longer there’d be a heavy price to pay. Yet Velvet couldn’t help but be captivated by the way her face shifted from calm to ire in an instant, like seeing a fin break the surface of the darkest waters, there one moment and gone in the next. She couldn’t blame her for her anger, either; Oryza’s fears served to remind Velvet that not everyone had taken to the Bonyornic arrival with aplomb, seeing potential enemies rather than future friends. There was no doubt that rumour and gossip had to have been flying around the settlement about them faster than the flames of a wildfire, and Velvet realised all too late that it was a poor first impression.

“And for that, I’m sorry,” Velvet responded, bowing her head down as Weiss’s snarl shortened by a few sharpened points. “My people, our people, have been shaken by recent events, and there’s a lot of fear of the humans. Of each other.” Taking Blake’s hand in hers, she linked their fingers together, tanned and freckled skin against a rich dark brown in a perfectly matched set. “They latch onto rumour and hearsay, no matter how much may have been fabricated, because nobody can be sure of what is and isn’t truth these days.”

Weiss just grunted, though her fury had drained completely by the time Velvet was done speaking, pulling loose threads out from her breeches. Blake squeezed Velvet’s palm before murmuring to Kobi in their lyrical mother tongue, the ladybird tickling their skin as it made its way down to their foot, taking off with a flutter of wings before Kobi could reach for it. It disappeared into the grasses that surrounded them, a shadow crossing overhead as a bird squawked, circling once before swooping down towards the seas, and Weiss swallowed thickly before running a hand over her hair, slowly relaxing her body bit by bit.

“I- I know. It’s just…” Weiss scratched at her jawline before shaking her head, gazing back off into the distance. “I think I’d rather keep it a story for another day, if you don’t mind. It’s not an easy ritual to describe, but I can tell you it’s been... exaggerated.”

A part of Velvet was still maddeningly curious to learn more, begging for her to try and pry for another scrap of information; she could inquire all day and all night, asking about Weiss and all the mythics that had come before her, yet instead she just nodded, settling back against the grass and letting all her queries slip away. Weiss didn’t want to say more about it, and so she would let her be. After all, they had all week to allow Weiss to come out of her shell, though Velvet’s greatest fear was that it simply wouldn’t be enough time to learn all that she wanted to know.

Leaning against Blake’s shoulder, Velvet took hold of one of Kobi’s grass-stained hands, feeling them squeeze her fingers as Weiss unfurled her legs, stretching them out before her. Her light skin was radiant in the sunlight, the soles of her narrow feet scarred over from barefoot walking over stone and ice. Weiss was a very strange Faunus, all things considered; Velvet was used to a darker variety of skin in her tribe, to bulkier muscles and joyous camaraderie. The clans of the Red Forest were known for being loud and colourful, yet always intensely focused on their crafts and skills, and whilst Akadya may have homed the quieter kind of people, there was a passion for their tribelands that was infectious.

Weiss was none of these things, thin and short as she was, every inch of her seemingly rimed in a thick layer of ice, glinting in the sun and casting dapples of light, never to melt away completely. Even so, Velvet found she liked her. It was like meeting Blake for the first time again, driving an electric wonder deep into Velvet’s chest and longing to know more. Weiss was strange, and new, and pretty, and Velvet wanted nothing more than for her company to persist.

But even so, when Velvet had met Blake it was because they were to be married, giving them all the time in the world to get to know each other, to suss out the other’s little intricacies and divine their softest parts, but unless Bonyorn chose to return in the following years with Weiss in tow, there was a good chance that this was the first - and last - time that Weiss would walk among the Jarran people. Velvet wanted to give Weiss a reason to return, to find an answer to the puzzle that her mother couldn’t. So, she leaned over to place a palm against cold stone inches from Weiss’s thigh, luring her attention downwards, before grinning up to her with renewed vigour. “Then, perhaps you could tell us about Bonyorn? I’ve never heard anyone describe the far north before.”

Weiss squinted down at her, almost as if she was seeking a trap she couldn’t quite make out, but when Blake rearranged Kobi onto their lap and looked up expectantly, the Faunus just let out a breath, the corners of her mouth quirking before she moved herself on the rock to get more comfortable. Then, with a long inhale, she pointed out into the seas, towards a point so far away it was obscured by a summer sky.

“Our tribe is... centralised, around a great settlement much like Vaule, named _Maante_. It sits not far from cliffs like these, though ours are far more sheer and deadly, and we keep our boats in a cove so large that the light of our torches never reaches the top-”

Slowly, Weiss began to weave a picture of Bonyorn, describing ice-slicked stone and freezing, crashing waves that tore at the coastline, wind howling and screeching during the brutal winter months as permafrost at the top of the world stayed solid all year around. The shadows of craggy mountains would be cast over Maante whilst caves burrowed deep into Remnant’s crust and out of sight, people swimming in lakes so cold it took even Weiss’s breath away, whilst high above skies were perennially clouded over, rolling and roaring with storms or breaking just enough for the palest rays of sun to meet the stony ground. Some parts of the year the sun would never rise, whilst the summer would see it never set, and rain would turn to sleet to hail to snow in a moment’s notice.

As she motioned upwards, starting to animate more and more as she continued, Kobi slept in their parent’s lap, Blake focused entirely on Weiss as she drew out the shapes of the mountain ranges that kept out fierce, snow-flecked Grimm, describing the water-worn steps up into her settlement proper, fringing the edges of the great lake of Maante. Velvet could almost feel the bitter winds against her skin and biting at her toes even in the humid Jarran air, hearing the crisp crunch of snow and ice underfoot as she roamed past foreign homes. The secluded population of Bonyorn walked about her, talking in their angular language as they busied themselves for the day, carrying firewood on their shoulders or baskets of food in their arms.

Above all, Velvet could picture Weiss there, too. She would be perched atop a stone as she was now, skin damp with salt and rainwater, looking out into a misty grey sea with sharp eyes as drizzling rain turned into snowflake that disappeared into her hair. Sometimes someone would stop beside her and talk in short, pointed words, and she’d reply back with a twitch of her head before her focus was once again back on a far point in the distance, blending in with her surroundings like she was always made to be there.

Fitting in exactly where she belonged.


End file.
